


Cellodo

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, and also inspired by my experience as a musician, more shapeshifting antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 07:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13359750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: It’s pretty much what it says on the tin.—Odo looks around. “Chief, I’d like to return to my office now, but before I leave, I’d like to say that I’ve enjoyed experiencing your culture through your music.” He lowers his voice, adding, “Though the only way was through the perspective of your instrument.”





	Cellodo

“Miles!” Quark greets the engineer with a big smile as the weary man strolls into the bar. “Do I have something for you.”

“What is it, Quark?” Miles groans. “Are you going to let me try one of your new creations again?”

“Aw, no, I’ve got no inspiration lately,” shrugs Quark. “I’ve got something even better.” He smiles, and it’s less sinister than usual. It’s almost slightly unnerving. “Come along this way.” He leads Miles around the back of the bar, where to his absolute surprise, sits a cello, and matching bow, surely replicated.

“What’s this for?” Miles scratches his head. “You’ve been digging through my files.”

“Well apparently you were good enough to get into some fancy music school or something.” Quark says, folding his hands. “But I don’t care.” He nods towards the instrument. “Why don’t you play a tune for us?”

Seeing this instrument in front of him is frankly, a bit intimidating. It brings back fresh memories of his adolescence, where he enjoyed making music as a pastime. But it also brings back a sour memory. He recalls how let down poor Dad was when he skipped town just briefly before he was supposed to go off to Alderbaran. The disappointment in his voice when he contacted Miles after. The sadness of his father’s eyes and the way that he sobbed - it brings a touch of pain to bring up this memory, but Miles is still glad he’s chosen the Starfleet path - _isn’t he?_

The last time he picked up a cello was on the Enterprise, where he agreed to play for Data’s quartet. He hasn’t had any practice since then, but there’s a piece he knows by heart and is itching to play it again. After learning it thoroughly, inside and out, he’d liked the piece so much he’d listen to it every day for a year - the year before his father sent in his audition and he suddenly lost all interest in the whole music thing due to the pressure.

Miles grabs the instrument and grabs a barstool. “Don’t expect to have any song requests. There’s no way I could play the Saint-Saëns concerto by heart and at this age with so little practice.”

Quark grows impatient. “Oh, just anything will do!” he says, leaning on the bar.

He feels like he’s stuck in the spotlight. Oh, maybe it’d be better if the crowd would just go away or something. He closes his eyes, and takes a breath, and starts to play. A winding melody that slowly rises to the higher resisters, and meanders throughout. Gradually, the whole bar starts to notice, and people start to fall silent. Small groups at first, but eventually at last the whole bar is silent and at attention.

After a while, his mind starts to wander. With his eyes closed, he could still imagine himself as the young lad who wanted nothing more than to appreciate the beauty of the world through music. The music takes him a trip down memory lane, and he’s completely lost in his thoughts.

It’s only when he comes to the end, that he realises that his brow is entirely soaked with sweat. Slowly, he opens his eyes, facing the crowd. Someone starts to clap. A young science ensign in the back. He stands to his feet, deeply moved. Gradually the whole bar is erupt with applause and Miles can’t believe it all. Smiling through all the compliments and praise, he puts the instrument down and accepts his colleagues’ words graciously.

“Chief, that was excellent.”

Miles’ face lights up. “Odo! Didn’t see you there.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so…intriguing.” Odo compliments.

“Thanks.” Miles glances down at the floor, noticing the distinct absence of his instrument. Putting two and two together, he’s taken aback by surprise. “So you were -“

Odo looks around. “Chief, I’d like to return to my office now, but before I leave, I’d like to say that I’ve enjoyed experiencing your culture through your music.” He lowers his voice, adding, “Though the only way was through the perspective of your instrument.”

“Thanks. I mean, if you’ve enjoyed it, maybe I could play for you some other time. So that you could enjoy it. As my audience.” Miles suggests.

Odo gives a courteous nod before leaving. “I appreciate your offer.” The changeling turns on his heel, and exits the bar, leaving Miles behind with his memories and thoughts.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve referenced two pieces in this ficlet, the first is the [Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor, Op. 33](https://youtu.be/V6QGVF4hDOs), and the piece that Miles plays is the [First Movement from Brahms’ Cello Sonata in E minor, Op. 38](https://youtu.be/ACrT2qsrFZs).


End file.
